[fic] So, You Think We Can Dance?
Title: So, You Think We Can Dance?
Author/Artist: chromatic_coma
Characters/Pairings: Korea, Hong Kong; features France, England, Spain/Romano, US/UK, France/Canada, Germany/Italy, Austria/Hungary, and Greece/Japan
Genre: Friendship, Humor
Rating: K+, PG
Summary: Hong Kong somehow gets roped into dancing with Korea in a ballroom dance contest, but can these two opposites really win?
Done for the main round (2009) at hetaliasunshine
So, You Think We Can Dance
“Be in the dance contest with me!!”
“No.”
Korea didn’t notice the couch cushion was there until it had smacked rather roughly into his face.
--
“Dance with me in the contest next month, Hong Kong!!”
“No.”
“Pleeeeeeeaseeeeee?”
Hong Kong didn’t need to answer; Korea would spend the rest of his long life wondering where the younger man had gotten the lit firecracker from so quickly.
--
Hong Kong didn’t flinch, despite the fact that his corneas were in serious danger of getting a paper cut with the way Korea was waving the flyer in his face.
“Come on, Hong Kong, pleeeeeeeeeeease dance in the contest with me!!”
“Okay-”
“But it’ll be so much fun and there’s an awesome prize and since dancing originated in me we’re guaranteed to wi- Wait, did you say yes?!”
“Yes.”
“Alright!!!” Korea beamed. “We’re so gonna win, da ze~!!” After a brief little victory dance (which left Hong Kong praying that Korea had better moves than that display, or else they were already screwed), the teen turned to his younger brother once more.
“So, you finally couldn’t resist dancing with me, could you?”
The cheeky grin was gone instantly as Hong Kong whipped out a flyer with a flourish, holding it in Korea’s face in much the same way Korea had done to him.
“Super Deluxe Fireworks Kit?”
“The Commonwealth reunion is approaching.”
A moment passed in silence as Korea took this information in.
“Alright! we’re going to win the contest, you’re going to get your fireworks, and then you’re going to get me a picture of England with his eyebrows scorched off, okay~?!”
There was only a simple nod of the head to seal the deal, but a sly grin crossed both faces; this would be fun.
--
"So, so, what dance should we do??"
It was already established from practice that the duo were both good dancers; Hong Kong not only had a lithe frame, but living under England meant he also had to learn ballroom dancing "like a proper gentleman." Even Korea, who seemed to excitable and hyper to be able to focus on anything, had actually taken several dances classes in the past ("because dancing originated in Korea, da ze~")
Hong Kong's expression was nothing short of just plain bored as he picked at the rug on Korea's floor, as he honestly didn't care what they did. But, leaving this all in Korea's hands... that didn't sound like such a good idea.
"The waltz." Hong Kong was most definitely raised by England, if not for the eyebrows than for his fondness of 'gentlemanly' culture.
Korea made a face somewhere between disgust and awe. "You really wanna do that? But it's so boring! We should do something fun like... like... THE TANGO!!!"
"The tango?" Hong Kong deadpanned.
"Yup! After all, it did originate in Korea!!"
There was a brief moment of silence, before Korea was impaled in the head with a couch cushion. Again.
"OWWWWW!! You didn't have to hit me so hard! And it's not like I'm wrong am I?"
Hong Kong figured it would just be easier not to answer at all.
"So, we're doing the tango, then?"
"I suppose." If it would win him the money, then what did it really matter, after all.
"Yay!! Alright then, practice time!!"
Hong Kong's brows furrowed, but before he could even being to voice his thoughts, Korea had him on his feet, and in the taller boy's arms.
"Okay, since you're shorter and more girly looking, you do the girl's part~ Just follow my lead!"
Hong Kong frowned, quite obviously annoyed, as Korea flicked on the music and pulled the shorter man to his body. It was not a very comfortable position, being pressed against the hyperactive kid, especially as he moved so quickly, getting the moves all right, but without any of a dancer's grace.
"Ugh, Hong Kong!! Don't just stand there, I know I'm the one leading but you have to dance too!! Don't you want to win?"
"Of course I do. But, unlike you, I don't intend to win by flailing around as if I were suffering from a very painful muscle spasm."
Korea gasped, pulling away with a shocked expression before it hardened into a frown.
"Well, at least I'm not a statue!! This is the tango, you're supposed to shake your hips!!" To demonstrate his point, Korea gripped Hong Kong's waist and showed him what he meant, causing the red-clad boy to twitch.
"Whaaaaat? If we're going to be dance partners, you have to let me touch you here." Korea whined, but there was a smile on his face that was far too playful to be innocent. Hong Kong sighed, not looking the other Asian in the eyes.
"Fine. We'll try it again, but please don't do that anymore!"
"Aw, is Hong Kong embarrassed?" Korea laughed, but after a good smack upside the head ("Did you learn that from Taiwan?"), the two got back to practicing.
----
The next morning, after a quick breakfast and cup of tea, the duo left to go officially enter the contest. When they got to the hotel where the contest was being held, however, they were faced with a pressing problem...
The sign-up booth was gone.
"What?! What happened to the contest?!!"
"Oh, the Ballroom Dance Contest? That was cancelled due to lack of interest; can you believe only one pair signed up in the five days the box was set up?" A man dressed in suit answered, his name tag identifying him as the hotel manager.
"What?! But we wanna enter!! Isn't that enough interest?!"
The manager frowned at the loud Korean disrupting the lobby, but made no comment about that.
"Unfortunately it's not, sir. We need at least 4 dance pairs to hold the contest; anything less and it will stay canceled."
"Then, we will find entrants." Hong Kong said simply, his expression as serious as ever.
"You bet we will!!! DA ZE~!!!" Grabbing Hong Kong by the arm, Korea triumphantly led him out of the hotel, in search of others to enter the contest.
--
"A dance contest, eh lad?" England repeated, sipping on a cup of tea. "Sounds interesting."
"It is!! But we need to find more contestants, otherwise there will be no contest!"
The Brit flinched at the intensity of Korea's volume, but he was more used to loud voices than he should have been.
"So you came to me in the hopes that I would enter as well?"
"Yes, that's what we were hoping." Hong Kong nodded, and England looked contemplative.
"Hm, well, as much as I would love to preserve real culture, I am regretfully busy that weekend-"
"Busy with what, Angleterre, waxing your caterpillar eyebrows? How unrefined, turning away from such a beautiful competition."
England choked on his drink. "France! Tch, what do you know about being 'refined' in the first place?"
"I know that it is very couth to participate in such elegant, graceful sport, something you barbaric Briton cannot possibly understand."
Said Briton started to grumble under his breath, completely forgetting about his audience; Korea was excitedly watching the back and forth and enjoying how flushed England was becoming, while Hong Kong, who'd seen this countless time in the past, was tracing kanji into the table in boredom.
"You know what? Sign me up for this dance contest! I'll show Frenchie here what real ballroom dancing looks like."
"Oh? Sounds interesting. Sign me up as well, amis, this shall be fun."
"Alright!!! We have enough pairs now, don't we?!"
Hong Kong did not immediately relish in their success as Korea had. "Who are your partners, then?"
"Mon petit Canada, of course~"
When 3 pairs of eyes then turned onto England, the man flushed again.
"I -koff- have someone in mind."
"Oh? And who is the poor soul who has captured your affections, Angleterre?"
"Nobody- wait, what are you implying?!"
Hong Kong simply sighed, knowing that there was no way at this point that England was going to back out, and forcibly led Korea away from the fighting duo, rubbing at the migraine that was growing stronger lately.
---------
By the time Korea and Hong Kong had returned to the hotel the next morning to sign up (as Hong Kong had complained that no, he was not going to do the victory dance with Korea and had stalked off early the previous afternoon), the sign up sheet was already full of pairs; at the top of the list were France and Canada, followed by England and America (Korea had a hearty laugh at that, and even Hong Kong had smiled in amusement), Spain and Romano (which hadn't been as much of a surprise as it should have been, quite honestly), Italy and Germany (no doubt the Italian's idea, if the heart between the names was any indication), Austria and Hungary, and with Greece and Japan rounding off the list (from which Korea and Hong Kong derived even more amusement).
Adding their names to the bottom of the list with a flourish, Korea grinned as the ink dried.
"Oh, so you boys are back. Excellent job recruiting contestants, and I wish you the best of luck." The manager, who was carrying a manila folder in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other, paused in his crossing the lobby to say, eliciting a grin from Korea.
"We don't need luck! After all, winning originated in Korea!!"
"...What about losing, then?" Hong Kong commented, finally weary of the Korean's exhausting personality. "Did losing originate in Korea as well?"
Korea froze, thinking of his answer, and the manager, thoroughly confused, simply decided it would be best to walk away.
"Of course losing didn't originate in Korea!"
"But, I thought everything originated in Korea."
The Korean gaped. Hong Kong mused on how the moment should be recorded for posterity; this might be the first time in history in which Korea was speechless.
"Well, then, it did. BUT we're not going to lose!!! We're going to win, da ze!!~"
Hong Kong busied himself reading the contest entry form, even though it had already been signed, ignoring Korea's flamboyant spiel about just how amazing and victorious he was.
"We need to pick music."
"Huh?" Korea paused.
"Music."
"Oh right!! We should go... TO THE INTERNET!!"
Hong Kong simply sighed and shook his head, once again trying to ward off a migraine as he led the Korean out of the lobby (and away from the annoyed stares of guests and employees alike) and back to his home again.
--------
“I think we should tango to ‘Last Farewell’!!! It’s such an awesome, beautiful song, da ze~!! Let’s do it!!!!”
“’Last Farewell’?” Hong Kong repeated, and it was almost as if the veins in his forehead were about to burst, they were sticking out so much. “The K-Pop song, ‘Last Farewell’?” His voice sounded strained, as if he was fighting with himself to not punch Korea in the face (which was way to easy, with how the boy was leaning against his shoulder, hand dangerously close to Hong Kong’s chest).
“Of course, what else?” Naturally, the anger radiating off Hong Kong’s being didn’t register at all to the Korean.
“Well, we should dance to ‘Por Una Cabeza’, or ‘La Cumparsita’, traditional tango music.”
“Psht, but that’s boooring!!! K-pop is much more exciting!!”
“I am not going to tango to K-pop.”
“But… but… but that other stuff is so overdone and ‘blah’!! If we want to win, we have to be unique!!”
“No, if we want to win we have to use music that actually matches our dance. How can you possibly tango to pop music? It doesn’t have the right beat.”
“Sure it does!! Watch, like this!” Korea exclaimed, grabbing Hong Kong out of his seat and clicking on his song before leading him into the dance again.
Hong Kong squirmed in the Korean’s grip, unable to move properly to this song, and slightly thrown off by how tightly he was being moved, as well as how suddenly he was pulled into the dance. Stumbling over the other’s feet, Korea then fell onto the floor, pulling Hong Kong down with him. The smaller nation made no move to get up for the moment, instead settling for glaring at Korea with such an intense ferocity that the older Asian actually became scared.
“Hong…Kong…?”
“Korea, we are dancing to traditional tango music.”
Korea didn’t have the guts to protest that tone.
-----
The dance contest was two days after that; the day before it had been spend buying their costumes. That had been relatively uneventful, fortunately, because Korea quite enjoyed the flamboyant, sexy, widely opened shirts male dancers had to wear; of course, there was the war with trying to convince Hong Kong to wear a mini-dress, but the boy had come prepared with knives hidden in his sleeves (“borrowed” from Japan, apparently), and so that suggestion was scratched early on.
Now the duo was in the makeshift dressing room with all the other male entrants (which were actually most of the entrants, as well), trying to suppress the stage fright and get in the zone as they prepared. Not that they were all too nervous; Hong Kong was just a little looser than usual, and Korea was more excited than anything else (the same could not be said for Japan, who was shaking so hard he could even button up his shirt on his own).
The sound of applause could be heard from outside, and within moments a sweaty yet smiley Spain ambled in, Romano coming following with a rare smile gracing his own features, even though it was obvious he was trying to still look annoyed.
“Oh, Romano, that was so fun~ We should dance the Tarantella together more often!!~”
“Tch, shut up, bastard. I’m never dancing with you again!”
“But, you had so much fun!!” Spain countered, still grinning. Lovino simply stalked off after that, muttering and blaming the flush on his cheeks from the tiring, fast-paced dance.
--
“And the next contestants are Korea and Hong Kong, showing us their rendition of the traditional tango!!” The manager, who’d long since gotten over the odd usage of names of countries (figuring that it was an inside thing between the contestants, or something of the like), introduced, and Korea turned to his partner, grin full on his face.
“Ready?”
Hong Kong nodded, accepting a proffered hand and standing. Wordlessly, with only a look, the two agreed; “We are going to win this.”
The dancing was intense; each pulsation of the music, each twist of their partner’s hips, each bright, beating ray of light, they all registered as if they were the only things in the world. Just the music, the lights, and them, and with each delicately practiced movement the pair was truly moving as one entity. Neither was aware of the awe of the crowd, or the catcalls and hollers of some of the more rambunctious nations; all the knew was each other and the music. It was easy to get lost, easy to follow their instincts and just move, and their hours of hard practice actually shown through their routine.
And then, finally, Hong Kong allowed himself to be dipped, untied hair barely skimming above the ground, as Korea leaned over him, the sounds of heavy breathing filling their ears when the music stopped. In this moment, Korea, red-faced and hair matted with sweat, let out a laughing breath and grinned at his partner, as the crowd exploded with applause.
Hong Kong was gently pulled back up with Korea as they both regained their footing, heads spinning from the rush of the dance. Then, subtly, Hong Kong gave his partner a small smile in return, before the two bowed for the crowd and vacated the stage.
Waiting backstage was the nerve wracking part; since they had already performed, there was nothing to take their minds off the impeding scores, which were to be revealed after the last dancers finished. While they did watch the other dance (and have a good laugh at Japan, of course), neither male could shake off the nervousness.
----
Eventually, the last contenders did finally complete their dance, and everyone was brought back onto the stage to announce the winners.
“In third place,” The manager/MC started, “we have the pair of Austria and Hungary!”
The duo went up to receive their awards, and Korea clenched his fist a little tighter.
“We didn’t want third, anyways,” He murmured, clapping with everyone else as Austria bowed and Hungary curtsied to the crowd. Hong Kong nodded subtly, and the duo took their place in line again.
“Second place goes to… Spain and Romano!!”
“Romano, Romano, we won!!”
“It’s only second, stupid, nothing to get excited over.” The young Italian muttered, but a smile broke through on his face nonetheless. Spain wrapped an arm around his partner and pressed a kiss to his cheek, obviously relishing in the victory (and the crowd’s ‘awww’ as well), and the pair accepted their prize and took their places once again.
"And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for, the first place dance team is..."
Korea could feel his heart about to burst out of his chest. 'Just say it already!!!'
"Korea and Hong Kong!!!"
The audience burst into applause, and Korea grinned so hard he momentarily forgot to breathe. When the ability returned to him in whopped, grabbing Hong Kong by the arms and spinning him on stage before hugging him tightly.
"We're the best dance team in the world, da ze~!!!!"
And, for once, Hong Kong couldn't disagree.
-----
Omake:
"So, do you have the stuff?" Korea asked, popping the collar of his beige detective's coat and using it to mask his mouth as he spoke.
Hong Kong sighed. "You realize we're in the middle of a busy street. You look more like an idiot than usual."
Korea shook his head rapidly. "No!" He whispered urgently. "You have to keep your voice low. So, do you have the stuff??"
"You mean the photograph?"
"Duh!"
"Yes, I have the photograph." A manila envelope was passed over.
"Good work; you're dismissed."
Hong Kong left wordlessly, but made sure he was still within earshot as Korea opened the envelope.
"Hey, wait....THIS IS A PICTURE OF ME IN A DRESS!! WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?!"
Hong Kong smirked, before sauntering off, leaving Korea to attract odd looks in the busy street.
Author/Artist: chromatic_coma
Characters/Pairings: Korea, Hong Kong; features France, England, Spain/Romano, US/UK, France/Canada, Germany/Italy, Austria/Hungary, and Greece/Japan
Genre: Friendship, Humor
Rating: K+, PG
Summary: Hong Kong somehow gets roped into dancing with Korea in a ballroom dance contest, but can these two opposites really win?
Done for the main round (2009) at hetaliasunshine
So, You Think We Can Dance
“Be in the dance contest with me!!”
“No.”
Korea didn’t notice the couch cushion was there until it had smacked rather roughly into his face.
--
“Dance with me in the contest next month, Hong Kong!!”
“No.”
“Pleeeeeeeaseeeeee?”
Hong Kong didn’t need to answer; Korea would spend the rest of his long life wondering where the younger man had gotten the lit firecracker from so quickly.
--
Hong Kong didn’t flinch, despite the fact that his corneas were in serious danger of getting a paper cut with the way Korea was waving the flyer in his face.
“Come on, Hong Kong, pleeeeeeeeeeease dance in the contest with me!!”
“Okay-”
“But it’ll be so much fun and there’s an awesome prize and since dancing originated in me we’re guaranteed to wi- Wait, did you say yes?!”
“Yes.”
“Alright!!!” Korea beamed. “We’re so gonna win, da ze~!!” After a brief little victory dance (which left Hong Kong praying that Korea had better moves than that display, or else they were already screwed), the teen turned to his younger brother once more.
“So, you finally couldn’t resist dancing with me, could you?”
The cheeky grin was gone instantly as Hong Kong whipped out a flyer with a flourish, holding it in Korea’s face in much the same way Korea had done to him.
“Super Deluxe Fireworks Kit?”
“The Commonwealth reunion is approaching.”
A moment passed in silence as Korea took this information in.
“Alright! we’re going to win the contest, you’re going to get your fireworks, and then you’re going to get me a picture of England with his eyebrows scorched off, okay~?!”
There was only a simple nod of the head to seal the deal, but a sly grin crossed both faces; this would be fun.
--
"So, so, what dance should we do??"
It was already established from practice that the duo were both good dancers; Hong Kong not only had a lithe frame, but living under England meant he also had to learn ballroom dancing "like a proper gentleman." Even Korea, who seemed to excitable and hyper to be able to focus on anything, had actually taken several dances classes in the past ("because dancing originated in Korea, da ze~")
Hong Kong's expression was nothing short of just plain bored as he picked at the rug on Korea's floor, as he honestly didn't care what they did. But, leaving this all in Korea's hands... that didn't sound like such a good idea.
"The waltz." Hong Kong was most definitely raised by England, if not for the eyebrows than for his fondness of 'gentlemanly' culture.
Korea made a face somewhere between disgust and awe. "You really wanna do that? But it's so boring! We should do something fun like... like... THE TANGO!!!"
"The tango?" Hong Kong deadpanned.
"Yup! After all, it did originate in Korea!!"
There was a brief moment of silence, before Korea was impaled in the head with a couch cushion. Again.
"OWWWWW!! You didn't have to hit me so hard! And it's not like I'm wrong am I?"
Hong Kong figured it would just be easier not to answer at all.
"So, we're doing the tango, then?"
"I suppose." If it would win him the money, then what did it really matter, after all.
"Yay!! Alright then, practice time!!"
Hong Kong's brows furrowed, but before he could even being to voice his thoughts, Korea had him on his feet, and in the taller boy's arms.
"Okay, since you're shorter and more girly looking, you do the girl's part~ Just follow my lead!"
Hong Kong frowned, quite obviously annoyed, as Korea flicked on the music and pulled the shorter man to his body. It was not a very comfortable position, being pressed against the hyperactive kid, especially as he moved so quickly, getting the moves all right, but without any of a dancer's grace.
"Ugh, Hong Kong!! Don't just stand there, I know I'm the one leading but you have to dance too!! Don't you want to win?"
"Of course I do. But, unlike you, I don't intend to win by flailing around as if I were suffering from a very painful muscle spasm."
Korea gasped, pulling away with a shocked expression before it hardened into a frown.
"Well, at least I'm not a statue!! This is the tango, you're supposed to shake your hips!!" To demonstrate his point, Korea gripped Hong Kong's waist and showed him what he meant, causing the red-clad boy to twitch.
"Whaaaaat? If we're going to be dance partners, you have to let me touch you here." Korea whined, but there was a smile on his face that was far too playful to be innocent. Hong Kong sighed, not looking the other Asian in the eyes.
"Fine. We'll try it again, but please don't do that anymore!"
"Aw, is Hong Kong embarrassed?" Korea laughed, but after a good smack upside the head ("Did you learn that from Taiwan?"), the two got back to practicing.
----
The next morning, after a quick breakfast and cup of tea, the duo left to go officially enter the contest. When they got to the hotel where the contest was being held, however, they were faced with a pressing problem...
The sign-up booth was gone.
"What?! What happened to the contest?!!"
"Oh, the Ballroom Dance Contest? That was cancelled due to lack of interest; can you believe only one pair signed up in the five days the box was set up?" A man dressed in suit answered, his name tag identifying him as the hotel manager.
"What?! But we wanna enter!! Isn't that enough interest?!"
The manager frowned at the loud Korean disrupting the lobby, but made no comment about that.
"Unfortunately it's not, sir. We need at least 4 dance pairs to hold the contest; anything less and it will stay canceled."
"Then, we will find entrants." Hong Kong said simply, his expression as serious as ever.
"You bet we will!!! DA ZE~!!!" Grabbing Hong Kong by the arm, Korea triumphantly led him out of the hotel, in search of others to enter the contest.
--
"A dance contest, eh lad?" England repeated, sipping on a cup of tea. "Sounds interesting."
"It is!! But we need to find more contestants, otherwise there will be no contest!"
The Brit flinched at the intensity of Korea's volume, but he was more used to loud voices than he should have been.
"So you came to me in the hopes that I would enter as well?"
"Yes, that's what we were hoping." Hong Kong nodded, and England looked contemplative.
"Hm, well, as much as I would love to preserve real culture, I am regretfully busy that weekend-"
"Busy with what, Angleterre, waxing your caterpillar eyebrows? How unrefined, turning away from such a beautiful competition."
England choked on his drink. "France! Tch, what do you know about being 'refined' in the first place?"
"I know that it is very couth to participate in such elegant, graceful sport, something you barbaric Briton cannot possibly understand."
Said Briton started to grumble under his breath, completely forgetting about his audience; Korea was excitedly watching the back and forth and enjoying how flushed England was becoming, while Hong Kong, who'd seen this countless time in the past, was tracing kanji into the table in boredom.
"You know what? Sign me up for this dance contest! I'll show Frenchie here what real ballroom dancing looks like."
"Oh? Sounds interesting. Sign me up as well, amis, this shall be fun."
"Alright!!! We have enough pairs now, don't we?!"
Hong Kong did not immediately relish in their success as Korea had. "Who are your partners, then?"
"Mon petit Canada, of course~"
When 3 pairs of eyes then turned onto England, the man flushed again.
"I -koff- have someone in mind."
"Oh? And who is the poor soul who has captured your affections, Angleterre?"
"Nobody- wait, what are you implying?!"
Hong Kong simply sighed, knowing that there was no way at this point that England was going to back out, and forcibly led Korea away from the fighting duo, rubbing at the migraine that was growing stronger lately.
---------
By the time Korea and Hong Kong had returned to the hotel the next morning to sign up (as Hong Kong had complained that no, he was not going to do the victory dance with Korea and had stalked off early the previous afternoon), the sign up sheet was already full of pairs; at the top of the list were France and Canada, followed by England and America (Korea had a hearty laugh at that, and even Hong Kong had smiled in amusement), Spain and Romano (which hadn't been as much of a surprise as it should have been, quite honestly), Italy and Germany (no doubt the Italian's idea, if the heart between the names was any indication), Austria and Hungary, and with Greece and Japan rounding off the list (from which Korea and Hong Kong derived even more amusement).
Adding their names to the bottom of the list with a flourish, Korea grinned as the ink dried.
"Oh, so you boys are back. Excellent job recruiting contestants, and I wish you the best of luck." The manager, who was carrying a manila folder in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other, paused in his crossing the lobby to say, eliciting a grin from Korea.
"We don't need luck! After all, winning originated in Korea!!"
"...What about losing, then?" Hong Kong commented, finally weary of the Korean's exhausting personality. "Did losing originate in Korea as well?"
Korea froze, thinking of his answer, and the manager, thoroughly confused, simply decided it would be best to walk away.
"Of course losing didn't originate in Korea!"
"But, I thought everything originated in Korea."
The Korean gaped. Hong Kong mused on how the moment should be recorded for posterity; this might be the first time in history in which Korea was speechless.
"Well, then, it did. BUT we're not going to lose!!! We're going to win, da ze!!~"
Hong Kong busied himself reading the contest entry form, even though it had already been signed, ignoring Korea's flamboyant spiel about just how amazing and victorious he was.
"We need to pick music."
"Huh?" Korea paused.
"Music."
"Oh right!! We should go... TO THE INTERNET!!"
Hong Kong simply sighed and shook his head, once again trying to ward off a migraine as he led the Korean out of the lobby (and away from the annoyed stares of guests and employees alike) and back to his home again.
--------
“I think we should tango to ‘Last Farewell’!!! It’s such an awesome, beautiful song, da ze~!! Let’s do it!!!!”
“’Last Farewell’?” Hong Kong repeated, and it was almost as if the veins in his forehead were about to burst, they were sticking out so much. “The K-Pop song, ‘Last Farewell’?” His voice sounded strained, as if he was fighting with himself to not punch Korea in the face (which was way to easy, with how the boy was leaning against his shoulder, hand dangerously close to Hong Kong’s chest).
“Of course, what else?” Naturally, the anger radiating off Hong Kong’s being didn’t register at all to the Korean.
“Well, we should dance to ‘Por Una Cabeza’, or ‘La Cumparsita’, traditional tango music.”
“Psht, but that’s boooring!!! K-pop is much more exciting!!”
“I am not going to tango to K-pop.”
“But… but… but that other stuff is so overdone and ‘blah’!! If we want to win, we have to be unique!!”
“No, if we want to win we have to use music that actually matches our dance. How can you possibly tango to pop music? It doesn’t have the right beat.”
“Sure it does!! Watch, like this!” Korea exclaimed, grabbing Hong Kong out of his seat and clicking on his song before leading him into the dance again.
Hong Kong squirmed in the Korean’s grip, unable to move properly to this song, and slightly thrown off by how tightly he was being moved, as well as how suddenly he was pulled into the dance. Stumbling over the other’s feet, Korea then fell onto the floor, pulling Hong Kong down with him. The smaller nation made no move to get up for the moment, instead settling for glaring at Korea with such an intense ferocity that the older Asian actually became scared.
“Hong…Kong…?”
“Korea, we are dancing to traditional tango music.”
Korea didn’t have the guts to protest that tone.
-----
The dance contest was two days after that; the day before it had been spend buying their costumes. That had been relatively uneventful, fortunately, because Korea quite enjoyed the flamboyant, sexy, widely opened shirts male dancers had to wear; of course, there was the war with trying to convince Hong Kong to wear a mini-dress, but the boy had come prepared with knives hidden in his sleeves (“borrowed” from Japan, apparently), and so that suggestion was scratched early on.
Now the duo was in the makeshift dressing room with all the other male entrants (which were actually most of the entrants, as well), trying to suppress the stage fright and get in the zone as they prepared. Not that they were all too nervous; Hong Kong was just a little looser than usual, and Korea was more excited than anything else (the same could not be said for Japan, who was shaking so hard he could even button up his shirt on his own).
The sound of applause could be heard from outside, and within moments a sweaty yet smiley Spain ambled in, Romano coming following with a rare smile gracing his own features, even though it was obvious he was trying to still look annoyed.
“Oh, Romano, that was so fun~ We should dance the Tarantella together more often!!~”
“Tch, shut up, bastard. I’m never dancing with you again!”
“But, you had so much fun!!” Spain countered, still grinning. Lovino simply stalked off after that, muttering and blaming the flush on his cheeks from the tiring, fast-paced dance.
--
“And the next contestants are Korea and Hong Kong, showing us their rendition of the traditional tango!!” The manager, who’d long since gotten over the odd usage of names of countries (figuring that it was an inside thing between the contestants, or something of the like), introduced, and Korea turned to his partner, grin full on his face.
“Ready?”
Hong Kong nodded, accepting a proffered hand and standing. Wordlessly, with only a look, the two agreed; “We are going to win this.”
The dancing was intense; each pulsation of the music, each twist of their partner’s hips, each bright, beating ray of light, they all registered as if they were the only things in the world. Just the music, the lights, and them, and with each delicately practiced movement the pair was truly moving as one entity. Neither was aware of the awe of the crowd, or the catcalls and hollers of some of the more rambunctious nations; all the knew was each other and the music. It was easy to get lost, easy to follow their instincts and just move, and their hours of hard practice actually shown through their routine.
And then, finally, Hong Kong allowed himself to be dipped, untied hair barely skimming above the ground, as Korea leaned over him, the sounds of heavy breathing filling their ears when the music stopped. In this moment, Korea, red-faced and hair matted with sweat, let out a laughing breath and grinned at his partner, as the crowd exploded with applause.
Hong Kong was gently pulled back up with Korea as they both regained their footing, heads spinning from the rush of the dance. Then, subtly, Hong Kong gave his partner a small smile in return, before the two bowed for the crowd and vacated the stage.
Waiting backstage was the nerve wracking part; since they had already performed, there was nothing to take their minds off the impeding scores, which were to be revealed after the last dancers finished. While they did watch the other dance (and have a good laugh at Japan, of course), neither male could shake off the nervousness.
----
Eventually, the last contenders did finally complete their dance, and everyone was brought back onto the stage to announce the winners.
“In third place,” The manager/MC started, “we have the pair of Austria and Hungary!”
The duo went up to receive their awards, and Korea clenched his fist a little tighter.
“We didn’t want third, anyways,” He murmured, clapping with everyone else as Austria bowed and Hungary curtsied to the crowd. Hong Kong nodded subtly, and the duo took their place in line again.
“Second place goes to… Spain and Romano!!”
“Romano, Romano, we won!!”
“It’s only second, stupid, nothing to get excited over.” The young Italian muttered, but a smile broke through on his face nonetheless. Spain wrapped an arm around his partner and pressed a kiss to his cheek, obviously relishing in the victory (and the crowd’s ‘awww’ as well), and the pair accepted their prize and took their places once again.
"And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for, the first place dance team is..."
Korea could feel his heart about to burst out of his chest. 'Just say it already!!!'
"Korea and Hong Kong!!!"
The audience burst into applause, and Korea grinned so hard he momentarily forgot to breathe. When the ability returned to him in whopped, grabbing Hong Kong by the arms and spinning him on stage before hugging him tightly.
"We're the best dance team in the world, da ze~!!!!"
And, for once, Hong Kong couldn't disagree.
-----
Omake:
"So, do you have the stuff?" Korea asked, popping the collar of his beige detective's coat and using it to mask his mouth as he spoke.
Hong Kong sighed. "You realize we're in the middle of a busy street. You look more like an idiot than usual."
Korea shook his head rapidly. "No!" He whispered urgently. "You have to keep your voice low. So, do you have the stuff??"
"You mean the photograph?"
"Duh!"
"Yes, I have the photograph." A manila envelope was passed over.
"Good work; you're dismissed."
Hong Kong left wordlessly, but made sure he was still within earshot as Korea opened the envelope.
"Hey, wait....THIS IS A PICTURE OF ME IN A DRESS!! WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?!"
Hong Kong smirked, before sauntering off, leaving Korea to attract odd looks in the busy street.